


A Strong Connection

by gin_tonic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Forced Bonding, M/M, Masturbation, Secret Snarry Swap 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:03:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gin_tonic/pseuds/gin_tonic
Summary: A bonding spell hits Harry and Severus rather unexpectedly and changes not only the upcoming Christmas celebrations, but their lives, when they need to figure out how to get rid of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you and for organising this fest and for so much flexibility! <3 And Badgerlady for helping me out and being—once again—a wonderful beta!
> 
> Written for Prompt #34 from Lilyseyes: Harry has quit the Aurors after graduating from the academy and is quietly training privately as a medi-wizard. Severus appears with a cursed Draco and their magic and tempers flare when Harry and Severus interact.

Harry looked out the window and sighed. It was raining again—not the kind of weather he imagined when he thought of December. He had planned to go flying for a bit later today, once he'd returned from a brief shopping session in Diagon Alley. It wasn't often that he had the day off and he'd wanted to make the most of it. Harry pushed a hand through his hair and scraped the scrambled eggs he'd been making from the pan onto a piece of toast. He hadn't managed to buy any groceries these last couple of days and this was all he had had left. Eggs, toast, and tea.

"What a feast," Harry said to himself and sat down at the kitchen table. He usually forced himself to eat here rather than in front of the telly. It gave him some sense of stability, at least, and didn't look as pitiful. Munching on his toast, he looked around his kitchen and through the open door into the living room. Ginny always told him he should finally get rid of the old, stained couch and get something proper now that he was finally earning a decent salary as a healer. She also said she'd help him pick out more furniture at that, because he was obviously hopeless and had no sense of style. Maybe she wasn't wrong about either of these things, but Harry didn't see the need to accumulate more stuff, either. He rarely had people over anyway, as they always met at Ron and Hermione's place, in George's and Ginny's flat, or at a pub. It was enough.

The eggs were too dry. Harry washed them down with tea as he continued to look around. It didn't look exactly Christmassy in here, either. Harry decided to buy some fairy lights at least, while he was out. It would keep Ron from giving him an earful—Ron prided himself on going all out on Christmas. Tinsel and lights, bewitched singing gingerbread-men, floating candles, and a ginormous Christmas tree. The year before, Ron had added some colourful Muggle lights he'd found in London—Harry's eyes had hurt when he'd looked at them. 

He checked his watch. If he dallied much longer, Diagon Alley would be packed. Better to leave soon and avoid the masses, he thought. He was just putting his dishes in the sink, where they'd be ignored until he needed a clean plate, when he heard a loud knock and the urgent chime from his wards. Harry hurried towards the door—he had spells in place to keep salespersons and the occasional Muggle away, and all his friends had the coordinates that allowed them to Apparate right into his entrance room. Wand at the ready, he threw open his front door and was nearly bowled over when none other than Severus Snape, carrying Draco Malfoy, stormed inside.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Harry blurted out.

"He's hurt," Snape said, dragging Draco to the living room and putting him onto the couch. "He needs your help."

Harry stared at Draco, who was barely conscious. "He needs to go to St. Mungo's."

"No!" 

Harry jumped at the sharp tone and clutched his wand tighter. He remembered that tone, and all the unpleasantness that came with it, from Hogwarts. "Why?"

"They would ask too many questions," Snape explained, obviously trying to sound calmer. "He was cursed. He came to me for help, thinking he had been poisoned. I gave him something that would slow down both his metabolism and the spell that's working within him, but he doesn't have much time. Please, Potter."

Harry swallowed thickly and looked at Draco. Whatever curse was working through him, it was acting quickly it seemed. "I—alright. I'll do what I can. But this is not my specialty."

"You were an Auror before you became a healer, Potter. I know you can break curses."

Harry shook his head as he knelt down next to Draco and began his scan. "I barely completed my training. What did you give him?"

"A variant of _Draught of Peace_."

The curse had spread already. Had they come to him any later—or had Harry sent them away—Draco could have been beyond help. However, knowing where the curse was within Draco's body wouldn't be enough to counteract it. "Where did he get cursed?"

"He was trying to procure—"

"Snape, I need fast answers, not a lecture." Harry ignored the ugly look that Snape sent him.

"From what I could make out, he obtained a vase that originated from Mesopotamia. He said something about the deity Nergal."

"Which one is that?" 

"God of plague, war, and the sun. Often pictured with a lion head and a mace."

Harry raked his brain for Mesopotamian curses. He dimly remembered that you had to fight them, similar to what he had done with the locket, but not the same. It would be a magic battle of wills, he thought, and hoped his memory wasn't deceiving him. "This could get ugly," Harry said and pushed the sleeves of his jumper up. "I could use your help."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Containment spells, mostly, maybe a diversion or two, depending how things are going." He just hoped that his curse-breaking training would kick in when he needed it. Harry got up, took a deep breath and started chanting. Almost immediately, Draco started to glow. As Harry's spell advanced, the light turned red and started to stream out of Draco, until it almost hovered over him. It got brighter and brighter with each word that fell from Harry's lips. 

Harry thought he heard Snape say something, but he was too focussed on the spell to make anything out. He could feel the curse fighting him. He needed to be stronger, needed to best this thing, or Draco would be lost. Harry changed his incantation, let it fold around the light instead of going straight at it. He heard a low and menacing laugh, heard the crackle of fire, felt blistering heat in his face. Still, he continued casting. Then he saw Snape's own magic alongside his own. It wove in and out between strands of Harry's spell, creating something similar to a net. The curse that was holding Draco prisoner strained against their magic, almost burning Harry. He gritted his teeth, closed the spell tighter around the now almost solid form made of light in front of him, and pushed inwards with his magic. The curse deflated and, suddenly, exploded into a cloud of hot steam. Harry and Snape were thrown backwards, magic rushing through them. Afterwards, there was silence.

"Potter?"

The world had gone black, Harry thought before he noticed that he had shut his eyes. He opened them slowly and blinked, realising he must've lost consciousness for a moment or two. With movement came pain—his hand went to his head and came away bloody. For a second, his vision swam, but then Harry picked up his wand that was lying next to him and quickly cast a healing spell on himself. These types of spells didn't work as well as they did when they were cast on others, but it would suffice if he took a pain-relieving potion later.

"Potter!"

Harry turned gingerly to his left and saw Snape kneeling on the other side of the room. "I'm alright," he said. "Are you okay?" He pushed himself off the floor as Snape got up.

"What did you do?" Snape asked in lieu of an answer. "What went wrong?"

Harry frowned at him. "I didn't do anything. The curse must've reacted badly." He went over to check up on Draco, who was unconscious, but breathing calmly. A quick scan revealed that the curse was gone. He told Snape as much. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and get a potion." Harry made for the bathroom and looked around in the cabinet. Without any warning, Harry suddenly heard a high-pitched noise and his headache got even worse. With every passing second, the sound seemed to get stronger and louder, until Harry almost blindly ripped the cork from the little bottle of pain-relieving potion. There was a knock at the door and, before Harry could say anything, Snape had thrown the door open. The noise and the accompanying pain subsided as suddenly as they had appeared.

Harry stared at Snape with wide eyes, potion still in hand. "What—"

"You felt it, too," Snape concluded and ran a hand over his face. "Tinnitus-like noise and a headache?"

"Yes." Harry swallowed thickly. "But that's just because of my head injury."

Snape gave Harry a cursory look. "Does it hurt now?"

Harry looked at the undrunk potion. "Not quite as bad," he said and drank the potion anyway, just in case. "What is going on?"

"Wait here." Snape walked away and Harry was about to call after him, when the noise returned. Then Snape returned and the noise went away immediately. "This is just a hazard guess and I will have to do further research, but I suspect you have bonded us, Potter."

That took a couple of seconds to sink in. "I did no such thing!" spluttered Harry.

"I don't care what you think you did or didn't do. Fact is that what we are experiencing is generally seen in bonds. Therefore, what I do care about is dissolving this bond as quickly as possible."

"First of all: Fuck you. Second of all: The faster this bond—if it really is one—is gone, the better."

Snape sneered. "Very mature, Potter."

"Fuck mature! You came to my house and you basically forced me to help Draco, when you could have gone to a hospital where experts in curse-breaking work. I had no time to study this curse and I did my best and broke the curse. Don't expect me to work bloody miracles," Harry yelled and stalked back into the living room, forcing Snape to follow him. He didn't count on an apology or even a thank-you from Snape, but at least the man had shut up for once. "Now help me bring Draco upstairs into the guest room. It'll be better if he's lying in an actual bed. He'll need rest and potions to clear his system for a couple of days." And he needed supervision, which Harry didn't add. It didn't seem like they'd be going anywhere in the state they were in, anyway. So much for Christmas shopping. 

They levitated Draco upstairs and placed him in the guest bed. The room was rather bare—bed, cupboard, a chair and nothing else—but Harry rarely had anyone stay over. If someone else slept here, it was usually Ron when he was too drunk to Apparate. It had been months, though, since they had last had a proper night out. 

Once Harry had taken care of Draco, they went back into the kitchen. Harry put a kettle on the stove, feeling himself calm down slowly. They would find a solution to this, he was sure. That conviction led him to another matter altogether, though: Severus Snape was sitting in his kitchen. He hadn't seen Snape in two years and, even before that, there hadn't been many encounters between the two of them. Careful not to be too obvious, Harry looked at Snape while taking out the teabags and rinsing out two mugs. Snape hadn't changed much. Maybe a line or two more, but nothing worse than that. His hair didn't look half as bad as it used to—at least not today. 

"Find what you're looking for?" Snape suddenly asked with a challenging glint in his eyes.

Harry looked away, blushing. He should have known that he wouldn't be able to watch Snape without him noticing. "How did you know I work as a healer now?" he asked to distract Snape and himself.

"Potter. Really? It's been all over the _Daily Prophet_ when you made the switch. Even if you don't seek out the limelight anymore, it does seem to find you anyway and there'll be coverage on you every once in a while. Especially in the summer slump or something of the like—whenever the nitwits who write that piece of filth don't have anything better to report about."

"Yet you seem to read 'that piece of filth'."

Snape shrugged. "I like to keep up with the conspiracy theories. Sometimes they do include me. It improves business—all those idiots come streaming into my shop to take a look at me and buy potions as an alibi, because they are scared I might curse them if they treated the establishment like a zoo without buying anything."

"Which you would."

Snape nodded. "Which I would. Or I would start charging admission fees. Whenever the _Prophet_ brings out an article on me, I make sure to stock up on the basic potions. And I increase the prices on those."

Harry snorted despite himself. Of course, he knew about the articles, too. He himself had kept tabs on the man, even though he didn't frequent his shop. Hermione did, though, and would sometimes tell him if she saw Snape. 

Harry poured hot water into the mugs and carried them over to the table. Harry sat down opposite Snape and blew on his tea. There was really no way to avoid the elephant in the room, so Harry decided to deal with it head-on. "Back to the matter at hand: How do we dissolve this bond?"

"There are different ways to go about this."

"One would probably be to ask a proper curse-breaker to help us out."

"We are not going to do that," Snape said sharply. 

Harry raised his hands defensively. "I know, I know. I figured, since you didn't want to go to the hospital in the first place. Too many questions."

"Questions that would now involve you, too, since you helping Draco in your home is against regulations, as far as I know."

That bloody bastard, Harry thought. Snape must have known about that beforehand, just as he must have known that Harry couldn't turn away someone who was already at death's door. By helping them, Harry had bound himself to Snape and Draco in more than one way—Snape must have counted on that. Now Harry wouldn't be able to report them without getting himself in trouble. And even though Harry would have never betrayed them, he found himself resenting Snape for forcing him into this. It was all he could do not to throw his cup of tea at the man. Instead, he pushed away from the table again and went over to the window. Harry had forgotten how hard it could be to sit at the same table as Snape.

When Harry stayed silent, Snape took it upon himself to start talking. "As I said, there are several ways to go about this. We will need to figure out the nature of this bonding. With a regular bond that is willingly undertaken, certain prerequisites need to be present and all involved parties will need to take steps to confirm and strengthen this bond. I suspect that there are ways to strengthen or weaken the bond we're afflicted with, too. And we need to figure those out."

Harry took a deep breath and tried to swallow down his anger. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"With Draco unconscious and unable to give us more input as to the object he touched, we will have to work with what we know. This means we will have to research curses and bonds used in ancient Mesopotamia, especially those pertaining to the deity Nergal."

"Great," Harry said, still facing the window. "And let me guess, Mesopotamia was known for its elaborate culture of cursing one another."

"It was."

Harry hung his head. "Fine. We will need a lot more tea for this." 

"I have some books at home that might hold some answers," Snape said. "I would suggest that I fetch them, but seeing as we cannot part for the time being, we have no choice but to go together." 

Harry stopped short at that prospect. He had never been inside Snape's house before. Sure, he knew where it was located and he might have snuck past once or twice, but he'd never been inside. Curiosity now piqued, he almost forgot his anger for the moment. The holy halls of Snape's place. What a chance! "Okay, fine. Then we'll go together."

Snape scrutinised him closely, then nodded. It was not as if any of them had a choice in the matter, if they wanted answers. They finished their tea, checked on Draco, and then Snape took Harry by the arm and Disapparated them.

******

Snape's place was astounding, Harry found. He'd always suspected that Snape would have a ton of books, but he hadn't thought they would be stacked up to the ceiling. There probably was a very elaborate system in their order, as well, but Harry couldn't make it out. Right in front of him, a book on Herbology lay next to a novel set in the dark ages, and wedged on top of both was a thin, grey-looking book. Someone had written _Household Spells—Volume 3_ on its spine. Amidst these books, Snape had placed an armchair that was so threadbare that Snape must have spent hours in it for years. It smelled slightly musty and dusty, but with the underlying scent of sandalwood. Not entirely unpleasant as it was.

"Potter, stop gaping and help me."

"How?" Harry said, turning once again and marvelling that this cosy place belonged to someone as unpleasant as Snape.

Snape sighed. "I know you probably haven't seen this many books at once before, but it really isn't that hard. Look for books on ancient Mesopotamia, on curses, and on bonding spells. Even you should be able to manage that."

Harry looked at him slightly incredulously. "Snape, how do you expect me to find anything in here?" He shook his head. "I'm doing a summoning spell."

But before Harry could even raise his wand, Snape materialised before him and grabbed his wand-hand. "You will do no such thing. Can't you see that a summoning spell—especially one that is carelessly worded—would endanger this whole structure? The books would topple and fall and we'd be buried beneath a pile of books!"

Harry frowned. "Watch it, Snape," he said. He shook himself free of Snape's grip and massaged his wrist. "A location spell, then. Or is that forbidden as well?" Harry took Snape's following weird, low growl as a confirmation and started casting. A couple of books all over the room started glowing, indicating where Harry might find what he was looking for. He carefully pulled those out that he could reach, but Snape would need to take care of those that were higher up. He was the one who could fly, after all. 

He waited for Snape to finish up in his corner, but when he showed no signs of being done anytime soon, Harry started to wander around. Not too far, so as to not aggravate the bond again, but enough to see a bit of Snape's place. The ground floor, while not big, consisted of a sitting room, a kitchen, and a hallway, each filled with books and old and, admittedly, cosy-looking furniture. The kitchen itself was small but neat. Harry wondered if Snape cooked a lot, but the only thing he could picture Snape stirring in were his cauldrons. However, Snape wasn't the type to eat out in public, either. Harry quickly checked whether Snape was anywhere in sight, and then opened the fridge. Three kinds of cheeses, butter, a lonely apple, eggs. 

"If you have found everything you were looking for, Potter, get out of my kitchen," Snape hissed.

Harry winced guiltily. He should have known better than to snoop. Snape always found out. "Sorry." Snape stood there and watched him scramble out of the kitchen. When it came to Disapparate them again, Snape grabbed Harry's wrist roughly and pulled him along.

******

Draco was still asleep when they had returned from their short trip to Snape's place. They settled in the kitchen with the stacks of books they had brought along, and Harry put on a fresh pot of tea and dug out a packet of biscuits that had been hiding in the back of a cupboard.

They worked for hours, poring through the books until their stomachs growled loudly. There was no food in the house, as Harry hadn't had time to go grocery shopping. He felt like a bad host, even though he certainly hadn't invited anyone to visit him, and, at the same time, like a grown-up who obviously couldn't take proper care of himself. Harry apologized and got out the take-away leaflets he collected in a drawer, trying not to feel embarrassed at how well read they appeared. 

"Just go and order your usual choice, Potter." Snape delicately held up the leaflets between his thumb and forefinger. "You must know what's good."

The criticism wasn't even thinly veiled, but Harry managed to ignore it nevertheless. He would not justify his choices to Snape, who had no clue what it was like to come home late at night from a shift at the hospital, too tired even to chop some vegetables. Harry ordered curries for both of them and returned to the book he had started reading. After many useless texts, this one finally looked promising.

 _'Mesopotamia was known for its wide variety of curses.'_

Harry groaned as he read that sentence. According to the following paragraph, curses were often at the root of illnesses—and they weren't restricted to the magical community, either. Both worlds, it seemed, had been knit closely together, though they hadn't existed as one. The author of the book went on to explain that there had been curse-masters who could be employed by anyone to curse people or objects, though witches and wizards would also often do the job themselves. Then again, Harry pondered, he was also able to mix a couple of potions, but would always prefer to get those from a potions master, because they usually were more potent when created by professionals. It must have been the same with those curse-masters in Mesopotamia. Which meant that it was most likely that the curse had been created by a professional. But was the bond something that had been designed by that person as well? It seemed a strange thing to do as the effect of breaking the curse.

He suggested as much to Snape, who frowned first, but then nodded in agreement. "I very much doubt that an advanced curse-master would place a bonding spell within his own work."

"And a careful curse-master wouldn't put one in accidentally, either," Harry said. "Which means that it's most likely that this curse and the bonding spell are two completely different things."

"Not completely. We didn't touch the object. If the bond was really separate, Draco would be the one to be affected by both the curse and the bond. But breaking the curse has let the bonding spell loose."

"Why did it affect the two of us? Why not Draco and you? Or Draco and me?"

"Is that what you would have wished for?"

"No!" Harry pulled a face, but was saved from having to give a more elaborate answer when the doorbell rang. Dinner had finally arrived.

******

The next day, Harry woke up early. For a second, lying with his eyes closed, he could almost forget what had happened the day before. Then he heard a noise from the other side of the bed and returned to reality. When they had turned in for the night, they had found themselves faced with a profound problem: The bond didn't allow for them to sleep in separate rooms. Since Harry's bedroom was small, they hadn't been able to transfigure his bed into two and had therefore, with much resentment, resorted to sleeping in the same bed. Harry had been aware of every movement of Snape and, despite the fatigue that had taken over his body, he hadn't been able to fall asleep for a long while or to get a lot of rest. Harry opened his eyes slowly, checking where exactly he was lying in relation to Snape, and then carefully edged towards the side of the bed.

"So you are awake."

Harry winced. He should have known Snape would already be up. "Yes. Good morning." He would be civil, he decided. Hopefully, this ordeal would soon be over.

"Is it?" Snape swung out of bed and looked at Harry from the other side.

Harry shrugged. "Ask me again after I've had a cup of tea." He motioned for Snape to follow him towards Draco's room, where he checked on his patient. Draco's vitals had stabilised and there was thankfully no trace of the curse left. He should make a full recovery, Harry announced to Snape, but would be asleep a while longer. After administering potions to make sure that Draco had all he needed, they went down to the kitchen.

It felt weird to have Snape trail him like this. Especially when he still had his morning routine to go through. He was in need of a shower and sincerely hoped he could take one without Snape having to be present in the same room. 

"Potter, you still have no food." 

Harry sighed and came to stand next to Snape in front of the open fridge. There was a single carrot slowly decaying in the vegetable bin, but Harry deemed it best not to mention that. "We will have to go shopping. I meant to do that yesterday, but then you barged in." Why did he always feel the need to explain himself to the man? Snape never explained himself or felt sorry for any shortcomings of his own. So why should he? But here he was, feeling judged because he didn't keep his fridge properly stocked.

Snape sniffed. "Very well, then."

After a hasty cup of tea, they went to the shops together. Walking down the street next to each other felt oddly domestic and utterly strange at the same time—once again Harry was glad he had opted to live in a Muggle neighbourhood. He could only imagine the sorts of rumours that would spread in the Wizarding world if the two of them were seen together. 

 

In the shop, Harry started aimlessly browsing the aisles until Snape produced a list from somewhere and dragged him over to the shopping trolleys with a look of disgust on his face. "I took the liberty of taking inventory of your kitchen."

Harry sputtered. "When did you do that?"

"When you fell asleep while reading yesterday evening."

Harry didn't know whether to be embarrassed or angry. Before he could decide, though, Snape was moving towards the fresh produce. Harry had no choice but to follow. "What are we buying, then?"

"Fresh food. Cheese, milk, bread."

"What, no pasta or rice?" Harry stepped in front of the trolley to stop Snape. "Just because you can't cook doesn't mean that I want to eat cold meats for the next couple of days."

"What are you talking about? I can cook!"

"No. You can't." Surprised at the certainty in his voice, Harry blinked up at Snape. "I—I have no clue how I know. But I do."

"The bond," Snape said simply, equally astounded and no longer protesting. He quickly regained his composure, though, and sneered. "Does this mean you're volunteering to cook?"

Harry shrugged, still a bit surprised at this new discovery. "If that ensures that I get a hot meal, then yes." And that was that. 

 

Packed with bags that they had lightened with a surreptitious little spell, looking as though they planned on feeding an army, they marched back to Harry's home in silence. Harry was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had just known Snape couldn't cook. He vaguely remembered having an inkling about that when they had been in Snape's house, but that was very different from knowing with certainty without having been told. How could Snape just accept that it was the bond that had given Harry that knowledge? How could he not wonder and worry about what this might mean?

******

Harry woke up panting and stared at the ceiling, trying to calm down. It had been a while since he'd last had a nightmare as bad as this one—long enough to almost forget how awful they could get. He could already feel a headache come rolling in. He rubbed a hand over his face as if that would dispel the images of death from his mind. He could still see their faces in all horrid, all-too-clear detail. The shadows created by the tree outside the windows and his neighbours' fairy lights seemed to take the form of the dead, haunting Harry even outside his nightmare. He pressed his eyes closed and grabbed the sheets tightly, hoping to protect himself against the images, begging to fall asleep quickly.

A hand landed on his chest and Harry almost jumped out of bed in his fright.

"Potter. Sleep." No attempts at comfort made, just a sleepy grunt coming from the other side of the bed. Nevertheless, Harry felt himself calming down. He concentrated on the weight of the hand, how his own breaths made it rise and fall. His eyes began to droop and, not long after, Harry was asleep again.

******

The next morning went on as if nothing had happened. They got up, got dressed, checked on Draco, and had breakfast in silence. Despite it all, Harry was sure he hadn't dreamt that Snape had comforted him. He could almost feel Snape's hands on his chest, still. He wondered what it meant. Had he just woken Snape with his movements and screams? Had he really screamed? Or had the bond alerted Snape to Harry's distress? Had Snape meant to be nice and comforting or had he just wanted Harry to lie still and not disturb him further?

With all those thoughts racing through his head, it was hard to concentrate on the books he was supposed to study. Words danced in front of his eyes, making no sense at all. 

"Potter. You're fidgeting." Snape glared at Harry over the edge of the book. 

"Sorry." Harry put a hand on his restless leg to keep himself from bouncing it, but that didn't help him sit still. 

Snape put down the book. Which probably meant that Harry was in serious trouble now. "What is the matter with you?" 

'So much,' Harry wanted to answer but didn't, because Snape would probably agree. "It's just—it's been days since I did any kind of exercise. I'm going a bit stir crazy," he said instead, and it wasn't even untrue.

"Well, I do feel for you, Potter," Snape said, but the dry tone he used clearly belied his words. "But you going to play Quidditch is out of the question for now."

"It's not that," Harry said and ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, I would like to go flying again and have a bit of fresh air, but I meant actual exercise. Sit-ups, push-ups and the like. The occasional game with my mates isn't what's keeping me in shape." Plus, sport usually helped him clear his head after a bad night.

"I have wondered about that," Snape said and, from the look on his face, immediately regretted his words. "Seeing as you seem to stuff yourself with all this rubbish." He nodded at the bag of crisps that lay on the table.

"Yeah, well, my metabolism isn't like Ron's. He can eat whatever he likes and stay thin like that. I actually have to work out."

Snape folded his arms in front of his chest. "How very Muggle of you. I know many wizards wouldn't bother about that at all or would rather use magical means to slim and tone themselves."

Harry snorted. "I haven't done much that could be called 'Muggle' since I was ten, you know? I think I'm almost as far from being a Muggle as you can be, if you haven't been born in the Wizarding world." He got up and stretched. "But regarding fitness and stuff like that, I think it's different in my generation. People actually care about their looks and want to be fit. Maybe that's something that came from the Muggle world, once. Or maybe people realised that riding a broom is a lot easier when you actually have the muscles to do so." In lieu of exercise, Harry grabbed their mugs and went over to the sink to rinse them out. "Plus, as a gay male in this day and age, I do know about the pressure to watch your figure."

"Do you now."

"Sure." Harry shrugged. "You don't seem to be excited about doing sports. Not that you need to," Harry hurried to add. Snape was as thin as he'd always been. 

"Because I watch what I eat. And I have self-control."

Harry didn't doubt that for a second. He'd seen Snape eat, after all, and had seen him ignore crisps and the like without any trouble at all. But he had a feeling that Snape had a secret stack of chocolates hidden in his house. They would be truffles with Marc de Champagne and expensive Belgium chocolate, some with marzipan and some with macadamia nuts. Harry wasn't sure how he knew this, but he was convinced that it was true. 

"When you work as a healer, you sometimes don't have the time to sit down and have a proper meal."

"Therefore you shove whatever food you find into yourself, even when you're at home?" 

Harry hesitated for a moment and tried to think of a reply that wouldn't make him look bad, but in the end he just shrugged. "Pretty much, yes. It's the reason why I exercise a lot, too. Well, one of the reasons." He looked around for something more to do now that the mugs were clean. He couldn't stand sitting around anymore, he needed to move.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter! You're driving me bonkers with your fidgeting and wiggling. Will you be more restful and able to apply yourself to our problem, if you get your workout done?"

Harry blinked at that. He hadn't dared to hope Snape would actually go for it. It would be awkward to do his workout with Snape present—there were many reasons why he trained in the privacy of his bedroom—but the prospect of sweating and trying out his muscles was too good to say no to. And so he nodded.

Snape sighed. "Very well, then. Do you need anything? Some kind of gear?"

"Just different clothes and my mat."

"Your _mat_."

"Yes. My mat. My floor is kind of hard and working out on it isn't that comfortable."

Snape did that weird wave with his left hand that he apparently did whenever he had heard enough and just wanted things to get on, closed his book, and stood up, book under his arm. "Lead the way, then."

In his bedroom, Harry quickly grabbed fresh clothes—not the old shorts and the shirt he'd worn twice for his workout already as he usually would—and changed in the bathroom while Snape stood outside. This time around, he opted for the living room as the place to do exercise, because it would be considerably less awkward to have Snape sit in an armchair while he did push-ups, pistols, one-armed body-rocks, and scorpion-kicks. Harry tried concentrating on his exercises, but it proved to be rather difficult with Snape there. There was this strange feeling—just as he'd been sure about Snape's secret stash of truffles, he was now sure Snape was surreptitiously watching him. Or maybe that was wishful thinking—and wasn't that a scary thought? Since when did he want Snape to watch him?

******

As in the night before, Harry woke suddenly, his dream still on the tip of his tongue. This time, though, it had not been a nightmare. Rather, it had been delicious and all too real, that much he knew. Sweat, and skin, and him bent over, hands on his neck, his back. Merlin! He felt hot all over, and his dick was hard, and pressed against the confines of his boxers. Automatically, his hand moved southwards, when a snort from the other side of the bed reminded him of Snape's presence.

Fuck. 

Harry bit his lip. He couldn't sneak into the bathroom—the bond wouldn't allow it—but the thought of going back to sleep now was torturous. Hesitantly, he looked over at Snape, who seemed to be sleeping tight. He listened to his slow, regular breaths until he felt sure Snape wouldn't wake up. Then, Harry pushed his waistband down and freed his cock. Wrapping his hand around it felt like bliss. He pictured those scenes he could remember from his dream: someone else stroking his cock while he spread his legs invitingly. The stranger would use his other hand to circle Harry's hole playfully, teasingly, then push one finger inside. He imagined what it would feel like to be slowly stretched and prepared, with a much bigger prize waiting. The other man would make him beg to be filled and when he would finally push in, his long black hair would brush—

Harry gasped and came hard and silently. As come sputtered from his cock, there was another sensation. It surged through him like another wave of pleasure, leaving him shuddering and his ears ringing. When he was finally able to move again, he silently spelled away the remnants of his pleasure and wondered if he had heard something. But Snape was still lying there with his back to Harry. Feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed, Harry snuggled back into his pillow, pulled up the duvet, and went back to sleep.

******

Snape was already awake when Harry opened his eyes in the morning. He was sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, already dressed, making notes in the margins of a book.

"Morning," Harry said drowsily and rubbed sleep from his eyes.

"You're awake. Finally. If you would be so good as to get dressed so we can go downstairs and get started on the research."

Harry blinked and looked at Snape, trying to find out why he had a bee in his bonnet now. But Snape wouldn't meet his eye as he impatiently got up. "I—okay, sure." Harry threw the blanket back and got up. He turned his back to Snape to switch his pyjamas for trousers and a jumper and suddenly froze when he pulled down his boxers. The image of him wanking in the middle of the night flitted through his head. He didn't dare to look back at Snape, lest the bond shared something with him that he wasn't prepared to give up. He certainly didn't want to see the look on Snape's face now, if the man really had an inkling of what Harry had been up to last night. Then Harry remembered the strange sensation he'd felt and that he had thought he had heard a noise... And he blushed crimson red. Quickly, he donned a fresh pair of pants, pulled up his jeans, and reached for his shirt, when he suddenly became aware through the monitoring spell he'd cast on Draco that his patient was waking up. Without so much as an explanation, he hurried to the guest bedroom, where Draco was struggling to open his eyes.

"Slowly, Draco, slowly." Harry quickly ran a scan over Draco to make sure that he was alright. "You've been unconscious for a couple of days now," he explained while he worked. "You've been cursed, but it's alright now."

Draco licked his lips, struggling to speak. "Curse? But—no poison?"

"No, you weren't poisoned," Snape said as he came into the room. "But don't you worry, the curse is gone, Draco. Potter managed to break it and heal you." He walked up to the bed and looked at Draco with an expression that Harry could only describe as fondness. 

Harry felt a strange feeling surge up in him and race through his veins and there was only so much he could do to keep it in. He averted his face for a second and took a deep breath before attending to Draco again, hoping no-one had noticed. "You are probably pretty tired, still, and might feel a bit weak for a while, but that's just the aftermath of the curse," he said. "If you could tell us what exactly that vase that cursed you was and where you found it, I could find out more about the curse and make sure there are no lasting effects that I might overlook otherwise."

"A vase. Ancient."

"From Mesopotamia, yes. You said something about the deity Nergal being depicted," Snape impatiently said. 

Draco coughed and tried to sit up. Harry gently helped him and propped him up with a pillow. "Yes, Nergal, god of fire and death. The vase is very unique, very specific, and _very_ expensive."

" _'Is'_? Then it hasn't been destroyed?" Snape asked.

Harry handed Draco a glass of water, which he greedily drank down. It seemed to help him gather his wits. "I don't think so," Draco said as he nodded his thanks at Harry. "I remember being in my living room when I unwrapped the vase. The floor is covered in thick carpet and the vase should have landed rather softly on that."

"I will have to go and retrieve it, then." Snape made for the door, but Harry grabbed the hem of his robe to stop him.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" Harry gave him a meaningful look, hoping Snape would understand that he was referring to the bond. He wasn't too keen on Draco finding out about that—which he would, if Snape just went away.

Snape, in turn, stared at Harry's hand until he let go. "Very well. I shall wait, in that case. But I do need to examine the vase."

"You're sure I wasn't poisoned?" Draco asked, oblivious to the exchange that had taken place. "I could feel it pulsing in my veins."

Harry did another scan on Draco and Summoned a fresh glass of water. "I'm sure. You were cursed, but are now free of the effects. But back on topic: Can you tell us where you got the vase?"

Draco looked briefly at Snape, who nodded, and cleared his throat. "Well, I bought it. You could say from a rather unsavoury character. Actually, judging from the state I was in, the bloke was a criminal to boot and I will have to… see to it that he won't be hurting anyone else."

Harry gave him a hard look. "Did you just say you're going to kill someone?"

"Relax, Potter, I wouldn't do that. It's messy. I will just let my business contacts know that dealing with that man will be rather life threatening. And maybe I'll tip off the appropriate authorities as to what he actually deals with. I bet he won't be making any sales, soon."

"Am I correct to assume that you don't think you were targeted?" Snape's face spoke volumes about what he thought about that.

"I can't see how, as this business thrives on anonymity. But if you think there is a possibility of that, I will certainly look into it." Draco shrugged. "And about that vase: If you would be so good as to return it to me once you're done with your examination? I have a buyer that would pay a rather hefty sum for this little thing. Wants to give it to his daughter for her wedding."

"Her wedding?" Harry could hardly hide his incredulity. "Why would someone give a vase with an evil god to his daughter for her bloody wedding?"

"Oh, Potter." Draco patted Harry's hand and looked at him with a bit of pity in his eyes. Clearly, he was feeling better already. "Just because a god has certain destructive powers doesn't mean he's evil. In fact, this vase is a traditional wedding gift. My sources tell me that the vase is supposed to remind bride and groom that there are times when life is difficult and that they should enjoy their time together and make the best of it. Or that, at least, is how the custom is interpreted today. I, personally, wouldn't enjoy getting that particular vase and would think twice about inviting the person who gave it to me ever again, but that's neither here nor there."

Harry frowned. It was hard to believe that it had been a coincidence that a vase such as this had bonded him and Snape. The bond must have been part of the original purpose of the vase and the curse that had been used on it must be connected to Mesopotamia, as well, Harry surmised. 

"Why are you so interested in this vase? If the curse has been lifted, why do the origin and use of the vase matter?"

"As I said, I just want to make sure that I haven't overlooked anything. And depending on where the vase originated, it could mean that there's still some part of the curse left in your system." Harry busied himself with checking Draco's vitals again. It was remarkable how much of his strength he'd regained in those few minutes he'd been awake. Of course, the curse and its effects were completely gone and Draco already had had a couple of days' rest. Harry expected that soon enough Draco would be well enough to get up and walk around.

"No, that's not it. I know curses—once they're gone, they stay gone. Something else is off," Draco said and looked back and forth between the two of them. "Tell me." Harry shifted around uncomfortably, but said nothing. Neither did Snape. It didn't stop Draco from following what breadcrumbs he believed to be seeing. "If I've been unconscious for a couple of days, how is it both of you are by my side the instant I wake up? Have you been staying here, Severus?" Draco narrowed his eyes. "Whatever happened, it's got something to do with the two of you."

Harry looked at Snape and hoped to gain any indication of what to do through the bond or at least to get a hint from a look on the man's face. But Snape just stood there, stiff as a statue. Harry swallowed. He wasn't exactly keen on telling Draco, but Harry knew how he could get. He wouldn't stop asking questions. And as soon as he could walk about, he'd see the books. The longer this dragged on, the more uncomfortable it would become. "The vase wasn't just cursed. There was a spell attached to the vase that was supposed to latch on to the happy couple it was intended for, apparently. We suspect that the curse held the spell until it was broken. Once let loose, the spell latched on to us… and bonded us."

For a couple of seconds Draco seemed to be frozen in shock, but then he started snorting with amusement. "Oh, this is priceless! Severus, is this true?" Draco looked at Snape and laughed again—apparently, Snape facial expression had been answer enough. "The two of you, bonded! And here I was thinking only bad things had come from me purchasing that blasted vase!"

"I would like to hear what 'good' you can see in this mess," Snape almost growled. 

"Well, I haven't been this amused for a while now," Draco said in a disgustingly chipper voice. In response, Snape just growled again and stalked from the room. 

Knowing he only had a couple of seconds before the headache would set in, Harry said: "Sorry, we need to get back to research. Take all the time you need. Clean clothes are on the chair over there, food's downstairs in the kitchen." Then he stumbled after Snape, feeling stupid and confused. What he wouldn't have given for the opportunity to hide under his blanket, just for a little while, and pretend that none of this had ever happened.

******

"The lack of Christmas decorations in your place appals me, Potter," Draco said as he strolled into the living room. He looked—not necessarily better, but definitely less pale.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm terribly sorry about that." 

"You should be. I expected more of you, giving how exited you always looked at Christmas at Hogwarts." Harry had almost forgotten that Draco had spent a couple of Christmases at the castle, too. But those occasions seemed so long ago that it was almost hard to remember them. "I thought you would have a tree and fairy lights and mistletoes and, well, I thought it would be a lot more colourful in here. Less barren."

"I didn't have the time to decorate." Harry turned the page of the book he had been reading and, with the wave of his wand, poured himself a fresh coup of tea. "I trust you feel better?"

"Rested and fine, yes." Draco cleared his throat. "Thank you."

Harry almost thought he'd misheard, but as Draco was looking as uncomfortable as one could, he really must have thanked Harry. Harry acknowledged it with a nod of his head and reached for his tea.

"So no boyfriend, then?"

Harry knocked the cup over. Tea spilled everywhere on the table, drenching the book.

"You idiot! Now look at what you've done!" Snape came rushing towards them, but Harry had already picked up the book and was patting it dry. Nevertheless, Snape took it from him and snarled at him to be careful, before he used a light drying spell. "This is parchment, not some cheap notepaper!"

"Sorry, it was an accident," Harry said, taken aback by the ferocity of Snape's reaction.

"One that easily could have been prevented!"

Harry bit his lips, knowing better than to argue. It was a struggle not to give a retort of equal strength, though. Instead, he turned around and spelled the table clean, then took the book from Snape's unwilling hands and opened it. He'd already forgotten what he'd been reading on—finding the right spot again would be hell. He sighed and made to sit, only to stop in his tracks. "This is it!" Harry said. "This is the spell that bound us!"

Draco and Snape crowded around him as each bent over the book. There it was: simple and clear, right in front of their noses. A spell for newlyweds in a society that relied heavily on arranged marriages.

"It's supposed to help the couple get to know each other better, to help them get along," Draco summarised the chapter. In their case, the spell had failed with that latter part. "It's giving both parties access to each other's feelings and helps them share knowledge and memories."

"I would rather actually get to know someone by talking to them."

"And when have you last 'got to know someone,' Potter?" Draco sneered at him.

Harry sputtered. "How is that any of your concern?"

Draco, in turn, gave him a raised eyebrow and a critical look. "Seems to me, this is the most action your love life has seen these past few years. Same goes for you, Severus."

"Draco. Boundaries," Snape snarled. Harry found it remarkable that Draco didn't wince at the stare he received. "We've talked about this. Next time you Apparate to my doorstep, begging for help, I'll just leave you there."

"No, you won't." Draco brushed off some imaginary lint off of his robe. "But I can see I'm not welcome here anymore. You're probably going to be fine without my help, now that you know what you're dealing with." He Summoned his coat and made for the door.

"Draco, wait!" Harry hurried after him.

"Why, Potter, isn't that sweet? Miss me already?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "As a healer, it's my duty to make sure you're alright. That was one nasty curse that got you. Besides, you haven't eaten a thing."

"Oh, sure. But I'll manage." Draco gave him a patronising smile, bent closer, and whispered into Harry's ear, "You're a grown man. You can be alone with him. He's not so bad once you get to know him." And with that, Draco opened the door and was gone. 

Harry took a deep breath. Unfortunately, Draco had hit the nail on the head with his assessment. Before, there had been Draco as a buffer between him and Snape, even while unconscious. Now Draco wasn't only physically gone, but also as topic of conversation, leaving them only with each other and this bond that connected them. Harry told himself he had faced worse situations—and he almost believed it, too.

Back in the living room, Snape was poring over the book, probably trying to find an out. If anyone would find it, it was he.

******

After having called in sick for four days in a row, Harry found that he needed to pop into the hospital and explain the situation, lest anyone think he was just skiving off work.

"I don't see why sending an owl wouldn't suffice," Snape said, arms crossed in front of his chest and not looking as though he intended to move towards the door soon.

"Because just saying you're sick isn't the same as proving it. When have you last been sick for several days? A Pepper-Up Potion will get rid of your cold in two days, tops, and a flu can be taken care of almost equally quickly. Since I'm a healer, I have this stuff on hand, and my employers know that. They also know exactly how long it should take for me to be well. So yeah, I need to show my face in order to keep them from thinking I'm just too lazy to come to work."

Snape snorted and sent a look Harry's way that spoke volumes.

Harry pressed his lips together, trying to hold his anger in, but then his temper got the better of him, anyway. "Just because you think you know me—"

"I do know you, Potter."

"Bollocks! You know what I was like in school. Or rather: What you decided to see of me while I was in school. I'd like you to know that I love my job, even though on most days my hours suck. And we're going there now, so I can explain to them that I'm now bonded to an ignorant prick and need to get this sorted before I can treat patients again." They wouldn't like that, because they were almost always short-staffed, but Harry had enough vacation days left to take time off a good long while. And maybe he could offer taking the shift on Christmas—that one was always insanely unpopular, and it wasn't as if he had family sitting around waiting for him. Molly would understand, especially if he came for dinner on Christmas Eve.

Snape pursed his lips but, thankfully, said nothing. From the look of things, this wasn't going to be a particularly pleasant day.

Holding on to each other, they Apparated into the foyer of St. Mungo's and took the lift to Harry's ward.

"Healer Harry!" a small voice cried as soon as Harry had stepped into the ward. Harry turned around and saw one of his patients wobble towards him. Lucy had had quite a fall from a broom she'd managed to get hold off when her parents hadn't been looking.

Harry knelt down to be eye to eye with her. "Lucy, how good to see you're walking about already. Did the Skele-Gro help, then?"

Little Lucy pulled a face. "It did, but it tasted really icky. But the blue potion you gave me tasted a lot better! Mummy said to say thank you for your help."

Harry blushed, very aware that Snape was listening to every word that was being said. Would he judge Harry, because he had a little fan? It would be unfair to assume that Harry cultivated his fans here—Snape didn't know that Lucy had been terribly afraid of coming to St. Mungo's and how difficult it had been to treat her quickly and at the same time ease her fear. They had administered various potions, but what had calmed her down the most, the blue potion, had been nothing more than sugar syrup and food colouring. Harry had told her it would make her brave. Before he'd been forced to call in sick, he'd spent a lot of time with Lucy, playing and talking with her while she was still lying in bed, unable to move. "Oh, don't worry about that. I was just doing my job," Harry said and smiled at her.

"I was sad you couldn't visit me. But you were sick, too?"

"Yes, and I had to stay in bed, too, and make sure that I got rest, just like you." He didn't like lying to her, but the situation was too complicated to explain. It would already be hard enough to tell his superior.

Lucy nodded knowingly and patted Harry on the arm, then said, "Nurse Emilie said I could leave tomorrow. So I will say goodbye now."

"Oh, in that case I'm glad that I caught you. You be good now and don't climb on any brooms until you are taught how to fly when you're at Hogwarts! And happy Christmas."

Lucy held up her right hand as if to swear to it, then moved in for a quick hug. "Bye now, Healer Harry! Bye friend of Healer Harry! Happy Christmas!" She waved at them and wobbled off, still somewhat unsteady on her feet.

Harry got up slowly and started walking down the hall, trying not to look at Snape, who, of course, still had to comment what he'd seen. " _'Healer Harry'_?"

Harry shrugged. "It's what you get when you work with a lot of kids. First names make you less intimidating."

Snape snorted. "That's not something I would have wanted."

Now it was Harry's time to laugh. "You don't say. You practically breathed intimidation."

"It helped keeping all you brats in check."

Harry shook his head with an amused smile. He would find a lot of things he'd like to criticize about Snape's teaching methods, but the man had a point. "Being a healer, I prefer that my patients don't run screaming," he said with amusement. 

"It certainly would make treating them easier," Snape agreed, much to Harry's amazement. 

 

Explaining his predicament to his boss went more smoothly than Harry had expected. He left out how exactly they had come to be bonded, and rather described the whole situation as being cursed to stay together. Apparently, it seemed very believable that someone had taken it upon themselves to curse Harry and Snape and force them together. Harry wondered why that was.

"Because you seem to attract chaos and people who wish you ill," Snape said, rather matter-of-factly, when they were walking out of St. Mungo's. 

"Thank you?"

"Think of it this way: in the eye of the public, you are still very much the hero who vanquished the Dark Lord, no matter that you're no longer in the business of fighting evil."

"I wish they would just accept that. There's a reason why I don't. I decided that I was better suited for different things and that I don't quite enjoy messing with madmen. Hence why I leave all that to the professionals."

"Yes, you do. But there are bound to be those idiots who want to get revenge for your saving us all. Or who just want to show they're better than you. Or at least, that's what everyone expects."

"I don't quite like the picture you're painting here." Harry shook himself and involuntarily turned around to check the street for anyone with a wand drawn. He felt only a little reassured when he didn't see anyone. "But I get what you're saying. Now, do you want to go back home and take another look at those exciting books on ancient bonding?"

"Just because you don't have the capacity for—"

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored whatever insult Snape was spouting now. He didn't feel any anger or real annoyance radiating through the bond, anyway. Sometimes this bond could be quite useful, now that he was slowly getting the hang of it.

******

_A bond between two people can never hold up if the parties aren't compatible. For example, mortal enemies cannot be bound in attempt go get them to make peace. Instead, there have to be common grounds, such as shared experiences or a similar moral code or even likes and dislikes. Additionally, compatibility, and therefore the strength of the bond, will be determined by factors such as sexual preferences and physical as well as intellectual attraction, depending on the nature of the bond._

Harry had read the paragraph three times already, but still didn't dare to share his find with Snape. He knew what this part meant for them: The bond wasn't just a bit of chance, not something that would just lodge on arbitrarily to those in the vicinity—or, in their case, those who broke the curse that was holding the bonding spell—but something that could only work if there was...something there. Something, some attraction between him and Snape.

Harry swallowed thickly and stared at the page, not daring to look up, hoping Snape wasn't noticing his discomfort through the bond, yet suspecting that he inevitably would.

Harry had never considered—no, that was exactly right. He'd never _really_ considered what it might be like to be with Snape. There had been times he'd imagined hot, angry sex in the Shrieking Shack or in an abandoned tower at Hogwarts, but he'd thought that was just because he had needed some place to take all his emotions after the war. And he'd never acted on it. 

Barely moving, Harry shot a glimpse at Snape, who was still bent over a book and looking completely engrossed in it. Had Harry caused this bond? Had his fantasies of Snape fucking him against some wall or bent over a desk been the crucial factor to make this happen? Or had it been that he had checked up on Snape all these years? Had his interest in what the former bane of his existence was up to anything to do with the bond they now shared? Surely Snape would hate him if he found out. Harry bit his lip and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down by breathing in and out deeply.

"Potter. What's the matter?" Snape asked from behind him. Harry jumped—he hadn't even noticed that Snape had got up. 

"I—" Harry stared and stopped. Better to get it over with quickly. If he kept his discovery a secret, Snape would be even angrier. He pointed at the open page in front of him. "I found this."

Snape picked up the book and started reading. Harry tried reaching out through the bond to see what Snape was feeling but, in his nervousness, he couldn't concentrate on it. In the end, Snape hummed, and Harry looked up in surprise. A hum was not a sign of anger.

"This explains it, then," Snape said, leaving Harry to stare at him while feeling completely baffled. 

"What?"

"Well, obviously the bond lodged on to the connection we have."

"Our connection?" Harry repeated, not daring to breathe. How could Snape be so cavalier about this? Harry had expected him to throw a fit, at least, or blame everything on Harry.

Snape rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently. "Yes, Potter, our connection. Starting from my friendship with your mother," his voice faltered for a moment, before he continued, "to my involvement in the war and my role as your teacher. I suspect even your Occlumency training might have factored in here."

"Oh." Harry blinked. He hadn't ever considered Snape could be so daft. But it was certainly better than being yelled at, so Harry decided it was better to let sleeping dogs lie and not voice his own suspicions. "Yes, that sounds… quite logical." It didn't. Not really.

Snape nodded with satisfaction. "Now that we know why the bond has latched onto us, we need to find out how to break it. Maybe this book will be able to give us some answers. A good find, Potter." 

Harry nodded dumbly, not even registering what must have been the first words of praise Snape had ever directed at him. It was clear he would have to continue researching this bond without sharing his suspicions with Snape now. Because Snape was looking in a completely different direction. When Snape settled back into the armchair he'd previously vacated, Harry silently Summoned a book on marriage bonds they hadn't considered before.

******

Two days later and six days away from Christmas, they hadn't made any real progress regarding the dissolution of their bond. Instead, they had settled into a strange routine of research and sharing meals together, followed by watching telly in the evening, because talking was just too strange for both of them to handle.

Harry looked outside the window, watching lazy snowflakes fall silently and cover the street with a thick, white carpet. Without having to turn around, he knew where Snape was sitting—it was almost as if he could feel Snape's heartbeat through the bond. How could Snape not feel the same thing? How could they be experiencing this bond so differently?

Harry sighed and tried to distract himself with something different altogether. Maybe he should try to find some Christmas decorations after all. At the rate their research was going, he and Snape were going to be stuck here for Christmas. How was he supposed to explain his absence to Molly and the rest of the Weasleys? He couldn't very well just bring Snape around, could he? He tried to imagine Snape in the midst of the Burrow, perched on the sofa between George and Charlie, both of whom enjoyed starting a wrestling match after having had a couple of cups of eggnog. Harry shook his head at the impossibility of the scene and moved away from the window. Almost automatically, he opened a cupboard and got out a box of truffles he'd snuck into the shopping trolley the last time they had stopped at the local ASDA. He placed the box in front of Snape, who looked at it with surprise—and quickly tried to cover it up by scowling.

"What's this, Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Thought you might like a bit of chocolate. It's still some time before I'll start making dinner," he said. Chocolate might fix any sort of crankiness Snape often experienced in the late afternoons, Harry hoped. Besides, he knew Snape liked those truffles and for some reason, pleasing Snape seemed like a good idea. Though Harry wasn't sure if that was the bond talking or if he'd gotten that idea by himself. Not waiting for a reply, Harry settled on the couch and opened yet another book on marriage bonds. 

So far, his research hadn't been exactly fruitful. He'd found out that marriage bonds were basically always cast intentionally. As suggested by the first paragraph he'd found on a bond like theirs, bonds used as means of punishment didn't last longer than a couple of hours. It seemed that because marriage bonds were not designed to work against preferences and likings, they couldn't be used for any other purpose. However, he couldn't find anything on how a bond could be broken. Especially because a couple that had it cast on them was usually so compatible that an eventual split or divorce seemed highly unlikely. 

Harry rubbed his forehead. "Have you found anything?" 

"I have learned quite a lot from these books. But nothing that could help getting us out of this bond," Snape said. Harry heard the rustling of aluminium foil and smiled; Snape had eaten a truffle. "It's completely confounding to me."

Harry hummed in agreement. "Looks like we're spending Christmas together, then."

Snape snorted. "Not if I can help it. Even I prefer some sort of cosiness on Christmas—and that includes a glass of nice whiskey, a good book, and comforting solitude. And not a room that is bare enough to look like a poor student just moved into his first house."

Harry turned around, affronted. "Are you saying you don't like my house?"

"Potter, haven't I made it perfectly clear that your decorating skills are as abysmal as your eyesight? I don't claim to give a rat’s arse about colours and furniture arrangements, but your house shouldn't even be classified as a home—there is no personality in it. And there are barely any books, if it weren't for the ones I brought. It confounds me how you can live like this."

Harry stared at Snape with disbelief, mouth open. "I can't believe you of all people just criticised my decoration skills!"

"Non-existent decoration skills, Potter. There is a difference."

"What—bollocks! That's complete and utter bollocks!"

"Additionally, you must have noticed that my home is actually that—a home."

Harry stood up, not caring that he pushed the book off his lap with the sudden movement. He pretended that it hadn't just hit his big toe and ground his teeth. "You can just go fuck yourself! I like the open-space-feeling of my _home_ ," he lied, wishing—neither for the first, nor the last time—he could just storm from the room.

"If you say so." Snape sent a brief sneer his way and turned back to his book. 

Harry balled his fist and looked for a way to retaliate. He could only think of forcing Snape to vacate the very comfortable armchair. "I'm going to start dinner now. You'll have to come to the kitchen." He stalked towards the door and opened it with a little too much force, making it bounce back towards him. He hoped Snape hadn't noticed and turned around, only to see Snape Levitate the fucking armchair into the kitchen.

******

Five days until Christmas and no solution in sight, Harry finally enjoyed some alone time. In his case, that meant that Snape was sitting in front of the bathroom, waiting for Harry to finish his shower. A compromise that allowed them privacy while not aggravating the bond too much. Harry let the hot water massage the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders to get rid of the tension that had been hiding in his muscles since yesterday's argument. He'd felt particularly bad and was already considering forgoing his regular morning tea in favour of a strong cup of coffee. It would get him a derisive look from Snape, that was for sure, but he couldn't see how else he would find the energy in him to stay awake for yet another day of research. Unless…

Harry pushed the shower curtain aside and squinted at the door to make sure he'd locked it. Then he made quick work of washing and rinsing his hair, before squeezing a good dollop of shower gel onto his hand and wrapping his fingers around his cock. A groan escaped his lips. He hadn't wanked for days, not since he'd woken Snape up with his little escapade. But Snape was outside now and would be none the wiser. 

Harry leaned back against the cool tiles of the shower and teasingly moved his hand up and down his dick, pulling a little when he reached the tip and flicking his thumb over it. With his free hand, he reached down to fondle his balls first, then to press that little spot behind them. He imagined someone in the shower with him, pressing him against the wall, parting his cheeks and running his tongue over Harry's arsehole. Harry would beg to be fucked, to be filled. He pictured himself bracing against the wall in anticipation. The man in his fantasy morphed into Snape, long wet hair framing his pale face. Snape would guide his cock inside Harry, taking what nobody had taken before. Feeling himself get close, Harry sped up his movements and came hard. 

After a few seconds that he needed to catch his breath, Harry rinsed himself again, shut off the water, and got out of the shower. He stretched—the tension was clearly gone and he felt better than he had in days. Donning some clothes and his glasses, Harry smiled at his reflection in the foggy mirror, unlocked the door, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Two strong hands immediately pushed him against a wall. In his surprise, Harry let out a grunt and could see Snape's flushed face before Snape pressed his lips against Harry's. Snape's lips were _soft_. He'd never imagined them to be soft. Nor had he imagined his own would part so willingly against them or that he would melt into a kiss like this. Harry's arms found their way around Snape's body and he pulled him closer. 

As sudden as the kiss had come, it was gone again. Snape pushed away from the wall and breathed heavily. They stared at each other, unable to say anything for a long while. Harry wasn't sure who was more confused—him or Snape. 

"Don't do that again," Snape barked finally.

Harry opened his mouth to ask him what the bloody hell he meant by that, when the doorbell rang. Snape turned around and marched off. Harry, in turn, had no other option but to follow.

Before Snape reached the door, Harry quickly overtook him and opened the door first. He very much had not expected, however, to encounter Ron and Ginny standing in front of it. 

Ginny recovered first. "Harry. Good to see you're not dead, then." She turned her head slightly sideways. "And what interesting company you keep."

Harry flushed and ducked his head. How could he even begin to explain? He couldn't very well say _'Hey guys, Snape and I have been shacking up lately. We're bonded now, you know?'_. Ron would likely faint from shock.

"We came by because you haven't been around lately. We worried you were buried in work. Or dead," Ginny continued. 

Ron finally seemed to have gathered his wits. "Care to explain?"

"I—" Harry started and stopped. He looked at Snape, then back at his friends, and still found himself at a loss for words. "There's been a—"

"What Mr Potter is trying to say is that we have been cursed and cannot currently be separated from each other," Snape said. Harry's stomach sank. "We're working on a solution. If you would be so good as to leave us to it." Snape made to close the door, but three pairs of hands shot out to stop him. Harry could feel Snape's annoyance radiate through the bond.

"Harry? Is that true?" Ginny asked him, eyes asking him to deny it.

"Unfortunately, yes," Harry said, because that was the kind of answer he was expected to give. He thought back to the kiss they had shared only minutes ago and flushed even deeper. "Do you… do you want to come in?"

"They do not."

Harry shot Snape a look. "It's my house. I get to invite whom I want. Especially my friends." He opened the door further to let the two of them in. It was better to discuss this inside anyway. One never knew who could be listening outside.

Snape drew back a couple of steps, but hovered behind Harry like a particularly watchful shadow. 

Harry decided to deal with matters up front: "I'm sorry I haven't been around much. There was an accident with a… cursed object and I wasn't sure what to say." 

"Fantastic, Potter, why don't you tell them every little detail?" Snape said from behind them.

Ron didn't rise to the bait and clearly ignored Snape when he told Harry, "How about just ask for our help? As far as I remember, we did this kind of thing quite a lot."

Harry snorted. "What, free each other from bonds to… unexpected people?"

"Help each other out of impossible situations, you dork."

Harry smiled at him and Ginny gratefully—even when Ginny punched his shoulder as punishment for not telling them. "We've been looking through so many books that I can't even begin to summarise them all. But the fact is, we cannot find anything that would help us get out of this bond."

Ron looked at the stacks of books in the living room. "Hermione will be so very cross with you for not letting her in on the research." He shook his head.

"I didn't think it would take this long, honestly."

"Potter, may I speak to you for a moment? In private?" Snape didn't wait for Harry's answer and dragged him off into the kitchen. "What are you thinking, spilling everything?"

"Why are you so upset? They're my friends, they can help."

"They will be meddling in affairs that aren't theirs to meddle in. I have no wish to share my private life with them!"

"Well, bad luck, because you're about to! We have been at this long enough—to no avail! We need help!"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing this by myself."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "Obviously not. We haven't made any progress whatsoever! And, honestly, I'm starting to believe that this bond cannot be broken."

Snape took a step backwards. "What are you saying? Are you enjoying being bonded to me?"

"I—" Harry ran a hand through his hair. "It's not that easy now, is it? I mean, there is a reason why it bound us. Commonalities and such. Attraction."

"I am most certainly not attracted to you!"

"Oh, really. And what was that outside the bathroom, just a couple of minutes ago?"

"A mistake, obviously! Brought on by those waves of lust you sent through the bond, knowing full well—"

Harry blushed crimson. "I—what—I didn't know. You felt that?"

"Yes." Snape stared hard at Harry.

"Oh. Okay." Harry swallowed thickly. He tried to think of how to get out of this, how to solve this. A quick glance towards the living room told him that Ginny and Ron were distracted by the books they had started to open. Harry gathered his courage and stepped closer to Snape. "If it was a mistake, if the bond made you do it, then tell me: Do you feel attracted to me right now?"

For the first time in his life, Harry saw something akin to panic in Snape's eyes. "That is beside the point," Snape grunted, and took a step backwards. 

Harry closed the distance between them again. "Is it? Because I believe the bond is doing nothing more than forcing us to notice each other's feelings and to stay in close proximity to each other." It was nothing more but a hazarded guess, but it sounded plausible to Harry. Now Snape only had to accept it, too.

Snape cleared his throat and crossed his arms. "Are you claiming that you love me?"

Harry grinned wryly. "Hardly. How could I?" Before Snape could turn away, though, Harry grabbed his arm and got him to look at his face. He tried to open himself to the bond in order for Snape to feel how serious he was about this. "But I think in time I might. If I get to know you. All of you. If the bond held up this long, there must be something between us that could be the grounds for that. If we let it."

"Are you saying we should just accept the bond then?" Snape stared at him incredulously, but still uncrossed his arms.

Harry shrugged. "Yes, maybe I am. Maybe this bond is not meant to be broken."

Snape didn't have the chance to reply, as Ron walked into the kitchen with a stack of books under his arms. "I'm taking these to my wife. She'll want to have a look at them. Though you should expect a stern talking-to when she sees you next time."

"I don't expect she will find anything," Snape said and moved away from Harry. The moment was lost. "We have been researching this for days and haven't gotten anywhere apart from the fact that this seems to be an old Mesopotamian marriage bond."

Harry looked at him in surprise—he'd not expected Snape to share that particular detail. Ron seemed equally taken aback, though his shock could also have resulted from the 'marriage' part of the bond. Ginny, cool as a cat, however, said her goodbyes and dragged Ron off. "If you don't owl us or show up at Christmas, I'll send Mum after you," she said before Disapparating. Harry knew she meant it, too.

******

"Potter, this is a mistake." Snape glared at him from the other side of the sofa, but Harry didn't let that deter him.

"I don't."

"This should be mutual."

"It is mutual. If you'd stop being a complete chicken about it, at least." Harry scooted a bit closer, but stopped when Snape looked like he would climb backwards over the armrest at any second now. 

"I'm not opening myself to the bond," Snape said stubbornly. "You don't know what you're getting into."

"Maybe I don't. But we have established that there's no other way than to accept the bond."

Snape shook his head. "No, you have decided that the bond can't be broken."

Harry crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow at Snape. "I ask again: Do you have a better idea? Have you found out how to get out of the bond? If so, please share with me."

The way Snape rolled his eyes they should have fallen out of his head, in all fairness. Instead, they stayed and Snape even added a rather dramatic groan. "Potter. You're trying my patience." 

Throwing his hands in the air, Harry threw himself onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "And you're trying mine. See? We're on the same page." He propped himself up so he could look at Snape again. "But really, my working hypothesis is that if we do what a normal couple would do, the bond is satisfied and lets us have something akin to a normal life."

"'What a normal couple would do'? Do tell, what do normal couples do?"

Harry blushed and got up from the sofa, trying to make his embarrassment less obvious. "Well, like I said: For starters I thought we should open ourselves to the bond. After all, if a couple voluntarily had this bonding spell cast upon them, it would only be natural for them to accept it. I doubt they would expect the extreme side-effects that we encountered—otherwise the bond wouldn't have been used that much." Snape still didn't seem to be keen on the idea. "Don't you want to be able to get around on your own?"

"I do." Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe I'm saying this, but your theory might actually have some merit to it."

Harry beamed at Snape. "Great! Then we're agreed?" He stepped up to Snape. Now came the hard part: Opening himself up to the bond and to Snape. He looked at his hands. "I… I have no clue what to do now."

"Why am I not surprised?" Snape rolled his eyes once more, and then grabbed both Harry's hands. "Close your eyes, Potter, and focus on the bond. Feel for it. Let it flow through you and try to find where it starts."

Harry did as he was told. Holding hands with Snape felt weird, but not unpleasant. He had strong hands with long, lean fingers. Maybe a little dry to the touch, but still nice. A cough from Snape made him focus on the bond again. "Okay, I can feel it."

"Good. Now, follow it to the other side. To me."

Like following a taut rope, Harry slowly felt along the bond until he could feel Snape's energy. It was warm and Harry wanted to rush towards it, but made himself go slow. "I can almost see you."

"As I, you. Let your energy flow freely towards me. Reach out and—" He stopped talking at the same time Harry felt a surge of heat race through his body. Harry's eyes shot open and he stared at Snape, who now stood much closer than he had before.

"I—was that it?"

"I believe so," Snape agreed, a little breathless. "Why don't we try putting some distance between each other?"

Harry nodded and stepped outside the living room. Almost hesitatingly, he continued walking towards the bathroom—this had been the distance between them on that first day. He halfway expected to be hit by a headache, but nothing happened. "I'm going upstairs," he called and moved towards the bedroom. Once he reached it, he laughed out loud. How could it have taken them this long to figure this out? Accepting the bond was such a simple thing, but it had gained them their freedom. Then again, Harry couldn't imagine that he would have agreed to do this when they had first been bound.

Harry walked back to Snape and grinned brightly. "I can't believe that worked," he said excitedly. "I'm going to pop round the shops!"

"Now, Potter, wait a—" 

However, Harry didn't hear him finish as his Disapparition took him away. As soon as he reached his destination, he knew it had been a spectacularly bad idea. His head felt it would split in two any second now and he could feel blood trickling out his nose. With great effort, he turned on the spot and Disapparated again.

******

"—can't believe how stupid you were. Though, in all fairness, I shouldn't have been surprised. But this act of not thinking of the consequences really takes the cake."

Harry groaned and tried opening his eyes. He was lying on a hard surface and Snape was clearly next to him—nobody else could complain and belittle Harry quite like that.

"Ah, you're awake then. Congratulations on surviving yet another disaster. Now stop moving about." Snape's hand landed on Harry's and pressed against him with gentle pressure. "I haven't quite finished healing you. You'll find that I'm not as accustomed to healing Splinching injuries as you are."

" _Splinched_?" Harry managed to press out.

"Well, what do you expect when a headache brought on by a very unhappy bond is interfering with your concentration? You should have waited. You should have listened to me. Instead of Apparating somewhere, you could have tried taking a walk around the block. But not Harry Potter, oh no. Harry Potter has to go all out and try Apparating right away." 

Finally, Harry managed to open his eyes and managed to give Snape a smile. "You were worried about me."

"I was lying on the floor trying not to succumb to the blackout that the headache was threatening. There wasn't much time for worrying, Potter."

"But you still worried." Harry grinned at Snape, feeling strangely proud of himself and stupid at the same time. 

He let Snape heal him and help him over to the sofa, where Snape sat scowling for at least five minutes until he started talking again. "Suffice it to say, accepting the bond allowed us some freedom, but was not the solution needed to return to our respective lives."

"What do you propose we do now?" Harry played with the hem of his jumper. It had already been a little frayed before he'd managed to Splinch himself, but now there were tears and quite a lot of blood as well. Inanely, he wondered when he would have time to go shopping and if Snape would agree to accompany him. 

Snape hesitated a bit, but eventually said out loud what both of them already knew. "I would suggest that we... that we fulfil more of what the bond would expect of a normal couple. To put it in your words."

Harry blushed despite it all and nodded. This really shouldn't be so hard. After all, they had already kissed. But knowing that didn't change the awkwardness of the situation. _You are a Gryffindor, Harry. So, be brave,_ Harry told himself silently and scooted closer. Maybe it was the aftereffects of the Splinching accident, but he felt a bit dizzy being this close to Snape. Snape, on the other hand, just stared at him wide-eyed while Harry tried to figure out what to do with his hands. He settled on putting one on Snape's shoulder, making the other man twitch ever so slightly. Harry mentally counted to ten, then he moved in and kissed Snape. Almost immediately, all doubt fell from him. There was only Snape on his mind, only Snape's lips, and tongue, and the feeling of his hands on him. 

When they finally broke apart, lips swollen, feeling slightly disoriented, they were breathing heavily and almost sat in each other's laps. "I—that was—" Harry coughed, and then blushed when he realised he was half-hard already. If kissing Snape already had this effect, he wondered what foreplay would be like. 

"Yes." Snape still seemed a little out of sorts. "If you'll excuse me." He got up a little unsteadily and vanished in the general direction of the bathroom.

Harry rested his head against the back of the sofa and looked out the window. It was snowing again. If the weather continued like that, they would have a white Christmas for once. Which reminded him of the upcoming holiday. He wondered if he would celebrate it with Snape. He still couldn't imagine taking Snape to the Burrow, even now that the cat was out of the bag. But Molly would probably not stand for it if he didn't attend and would drag him—and thereby Snape, too—off by his ears if he didn't show up on his own. 

When he heard Snape return, Harry got up and brushed some imaginary dust off of his trousers. "Do you think we should test it again? I could walk around the block or something."

Snape eyed him critically. "For one, that would require you to change. I doubt your neighbours would take to the bloody clothes too well. Additionally, I think you should probably not strain yourself too much right now. I'll go." Snape Summoned his cloak and set off before Harry could protest.

******

An hour had passed already and Snape wasn't back yet. To distract himself, Harry had started dinner—a stew with loads of vegetables that needed chopping. He told himself that the bond would certainly tell him if Snape was in any danger. But he couldn't be sure, could he? The only time he had been in danger was when he'd Apparated too far—and that was a completely different matter. Would the bond alert him if Snape stumbled and twisted his ankle? What if Snape was being robbed, but hadn't been harmed physically?

Harry bit his lip and stirred the pot, then looked outside the window again. He couldn't see anything in the dark. Why the hell would Snape take this long? For the umpteenth time, Harry tried reaching out through the bond, but failed. Maybe it was the distance that kept him from knowing how Snape was. At least, he hoped it was.

When he felt the wards shift at the front door, Harry dropped the spoon and ran towards it. It was only when he stood in front of Snape, wearing an apron, that he felt like a frantic ’fifties housewife. He pushed his hand through his hair, trying to look cool and collected. "Did you have a good walk?"

Snape, completely unhurt, of course, brushed snow off of his coat and hair. "Potter, I have thought about this."

"Thought about what?"

"I think it's best if we used first names from now on."

Harry stared at him, not really sure if he had imagined that Snape had just suggested that he should call him Severus. He pinched himself for good measure, and earned a scowl for it, too. "I… yes, sure. Severus." It felt weird to use Snape's first name, and, strangely, like a victory. "I cooked dinner, Severus."

"Don't overuse it," Snape said as he hung his coat and followed Harry to the kitchen. "I thought it would help the increase the intimacy the bond apparently requests."

"It's a good idea." Harry spooned stew into two bowls and spelled a knife to cut some bread for them. "Did you manage to walk far?"

"Not too far, no. Only a couple of kilometres in distance," Snape said as he poured two glasses of wine. "I don't think that the bond rates the achieved intimacy as high enough yet." That, of course, simply meant that snogging once was not enough.

******

Alone in the bathroom, with _Severus_ not waiting outside for the first time in so long, Harry stood in front of the mirror and looked at his dick. Now that Severus and he had already kissed a couple of times, the next step was obvious. Sex. The thought alone made him nervous, but the whole range of connotations even more so. Would Severus expect him to shave down there? Seamus had once told him that it was something many Muggles now did, but he hadn't said if it was the same in the Wizarding world. What if he shaved and Severus would find the look appalling? It wasn't as if Harry had ever been able to ask anyone what looked preferable.

A knock on the door made him jump. "Have you fallen asleep? How much longer to you plan on staying in there?"

"I—Sorry! I'll be out in a minute."

"Remember, you were the one who said he wanted to go shopping for Christmas presents this morning."

"Yes, yes." Harry gave his privates another look. Maybe he should just go for it. If it looked terrible, his hair would at least grow back in time. Better than to scare Severus off by looking like a caveman. "What do you want for Christmas, anyway? Any wishes?" With a wave of his wand and a silent incantation he shaved the whole area in one go. Quickly, he banished the hairy remains. He slathered on some body lotion, while marvelling at the smoothness of his skin before he pulled up his pants, and opened the door.

Severus craned his head to see what Harry had been doing, but since there was no evidence of Harry's deeds left, he just simply raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Are you planning to give me something for Christmas, then?"

"Of course!" Harry grinned. "It's Christmas, after all! Why, weren't you planning on getting me anything?"

Severus just made a weird sound between a grunt and a sniff and Summoned< their coats. "I should like to stop by the Apothecary to make sure it hasn't been raided in my absence."

"Sure, we can do that!" Harry said, a little too enthusiastically, still caught up in the matters of Christmas presents. Was he being foolish for wanting to give Severus something for Christmas? It only felt natural. However, now that he had talked about it, it felt a bit like he'd opened Pandora's box. He couldn't very well buy Severus a box of chocolate truffles or something—now he needed something that was really good, something that would impress him. Harry bit his lips and linked his arm with Severus's before he Disapparated them both.

******

Harry sat on the bed awkwardly, looking at Severus in his dress robe. They had discussed this over breakfast. Sex clearly was the next step most couples in a relationship would take. Therefore, to gain freedom from each other and from the bond, they needed to have sex.

"How do you want to go about this?" Severus said, a little too matter-of-factly for Harry's liking.

"I… I honestly don't know." 

"Well, what do you prefer to do usually?" Harry cleared his throat and smoothed down the blanket next to him. "Pott—Harry?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know."

Harry took a deep breath. "No. I—Look. I haven't done this before. Ever."

Severus looked at him a couple of seconds, as if he tried deliberating how truthful Harry was answering. "You haven't had sex?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope. Not with another person." Severus's silence didn't make things any easier. He hadn't actually meant to bring it up. He'd thought this would just go like the kissing—that it would just work. That they would just go at it. Though, truthfully, this wasn't exactly how he'd imagined his first time would be. 

"But you—for someone who hasn't had sex you were quite active in the bathroom."

Harry blushed crimson. "Sex is not really a prerequisite for that, you know? Quite the opposite, really." After all those years at Hogwarts, one would think Severus actually knew that. 

"Yes." Severus coughed. "You're quite right about that." 

How could this be so weird and so uncomfortable? Harry got up. "I can't do this. I'm sorry." He grabbed his clothes and walked to the door.

"I know I'm probably not what you imagined your first partner to look like."

Harry sighed and turned around, feeling the hurt at his rejection radiate from Severus through the bond. He wondered where that came from, how someone so collected and business-like could feel rejected by Harry chickening out. "No, it's not like that at all. It's just—Shouldn't it be more natural? I always thought there would be passion and—Well, I don't know."

"You have saved yourself for love, then, Potter?"

Harry winced at the use of his surname. It was strange in how little time he'd gotten used to Severus calling him 'Harry'. "No, not really. It's just that when the… opportunity presented itself, it was never quite right. So I never… did it. And maybe expectations built up. I don't know. But I can't just have sex because we need to check another box in attempt to loosen the bond." He could only hope that this wouldn't make matters worse. Though judging from the fact that Severus wasn't looking at him, it had. "If it's alright with you, I'll go sleep on the couch."

******

The next morning was as awkward as expected. Severus was up first, as usual, and Harry woke to him puttering around in the kitchen. Wordlessly, they danced around each other, making tea, toasting bread, taking out the butter. It felt like routine, but wasn't.

Severus was the one to break the silence. "I thought I would go and see to the shop. I have made enough loss by having to close down for these last couple of days and would like to at least get those last-minute shoppers."

Harry looked up from the cup of tea he was clinging to. "Uh, sure. Would you like me to—"

"Your presence won't be necessary. As long as the distance between us isn't too big, we should be fine."

A little taken aback, but trying not to show it, Harry nodded. "I could—I suppose I should go to the hospital and see if they need me."

"That distance should be acceptable to the bond." 

After they had finished breakfast, they put on their coats and walked towards the front door. Harry realized that for the first time in a long while they would Apparate on their own. He did an awkward wave and Severus nodded his goodbye. A loud crack signified Severus’s Disapparition, but Harry didn't wince, didn't even blink. His eyes were transfixed to the empty space Severus had left behind. How strange it felt to see him go.

He shook himself and concentrated, then turned on the spot and was gone, too.

******

Work proved to be a very good distraction, Harry found. It wasn't long until Christmas now and that fact alone seemed to drive people crazy. There were those that had injured themselves while setting up a tree, those that had fallen victim to children's sugar-crazed wild magic, and even two people who had tried to rob Eeylops Owl Emporium in order to sell the stolen animals on the black market, but had learned not to mess with angry owls, cats, and toads. At least the accompanying Aurors seemed to be having fun teasing their two very unfortunate prisoners.

It felt good to be working again—Harry hadn't felt exactly useful these last couple of days, what with making no progress in research and not being able to do much of anything with this bond on his mind. Even Hermione had only been able to tell him what he had already suspected: Intimacy would, in turn, gain them more freedom.

Most of the patients he'd had had been discharged already, but there was a steady stream of new arrivals, demanding his attention. And while he was busy, he barely had time to think about the disaster that had been last night. 

After a couple of hours, however, Harry began to feel the strain. His head started to hurt, sending pulses of pain through his brain and down his spine, and he felt sick to his stomach. 

"You are an idiot, you know?" Severus’s voice let Harry look up from where he was sitting. "The minute the pain started, you should have come to me. Instead I have to come find you." The words were reproachful, but the tone was surprisingly kind. Severus walked up to where Harry was sitting and nudged his shoulder. "Enough for one day. Seems as though the bond isn't too keen on us spending a lot of time apart, yet."

Harry tiredly smiled his thanks at Severus and together they went to sign Harry out for the day. He felt better already when they left the hospital together. "The fresh air feels good," Harry said quietly and looked up at the sky that had already started taking on the colours of the night. "Would you mind if we walked around for a bit?"

"Not at all."

It was almost comfortable to stroll along with Severus like this. Maybe the couple of hours’ distance had helped. Maybe it was just their respective relief that the bond-induced headache was gone.

London was illuminated by millions of fairy lights. They walked until they reached the river Thames then continued along the shoreline until they came across a small Christmas market. Harry's eyes lit up at the sight—he hadn't managed to go to one this year so far.

"How about a glass of mulled wine?" he suggested enthusiastically. Severus looked as though he wanted to refuse, but in the end he nodded in agreement and Harry got two steaming hot mugs for them. They sipped slowly and silently. Harry watched the other visitors to the Christmas market make their rounds and how the snow, on some places still magically untouched, glittered in the light of the decorations. For a moment, he closed his eyes, breathing in the sharp, crisp winter air, the smell of cloves, nutmeg, and red wine, and the faint scent of Severus's sandalwood aftershave. 

"Something funny?" Severus asked. Harry looked at him in confusion. "You were smiling," Severus explained.

Harry shook his head a little and shifted the mug in his hands. "No, I'm just… I think you could say that I'm content." The realization surprised him a little, but it didn't make it any less true. He turned to the side to look at Severus and their arms touched, heat radiating through their coats. The feeling was nice, and when Severus didn't move away, Harry just stayed that way, smiled a little, and blushed. 

They finished their mulled wine, left the market and, when they had reached a dark and secluded spot, Severus put his arm around Harry and Apparated them home. They kissed passionately the second they arrived, coats and hats and scarves being dropped to the floor where they stood, Harry pulling Severus closer and Severus's hands in Harry's hair. Severus stepped away and broke the kiss just when Harry started to get hard. Harry stared at him with somewhat akin to dismay.

"I trust you can transfigure the sofa into a bed again," Severus said and bade Harry a good night. Had it not been for the lust-filled, yet somehow kind look in his eyes, Harry would have thought it punishment for his own rejection the day before. That didn't make it any easier to prepare for bed or to fall asleep.

******

Harry would have thought it would be easier to go on about life, but his newly discovered passion for Severus proved things a bit difficult. When he made breakfast, he thought about kissing Severus. When he put on his healer's coat, he thought what it was like when Severus held him tight. And when they sat on the sofa after dinner, Harry wondered what it would be like to have Severus fuck him. He tried putting it out of his mind by putting up a Christmas tree and a few Christmas decorations, finally. However, Severus was always there—either physically or in his mind. And then it was Christmas morning already and they were sitting in the Burrow's living room, crammed in with everyone. Severus had managed to evade George and Charlie and instead talked with Arthur, while Hermione had taken Harry to the side to give him a stern talking-to for not asking for her help. Presents were exchanged, though Harry and Severus decided to do that in the privacy of Harry's home, gingerbread and Christmas pudding were devoured, and Molly even sang a couple of Christmas songs.

"It was not as I expected," Severus said as they put on their coats in the evening.

"How so?" Harry asked and waved his friends goodbye.

"I thought I would find it more exhausting. I didn't expect them to be so accepting of the situation."

Harry smiled and looked fondly upon the Burrow. "It's easy to underestimate them and their love for me. I did—I feared their reaction wouldn't be as favourable. I thought they might judge me."

"Judge you? I rather expected they would see this bond as an entrapment on my side."

Harry shook his head in amusement. "See? We both underestimated them. They know you well, too, and know this is not something you'd do on purpose. And of course they wish both of us well." He left the statement hanging in the air and Apparated them both into his home. With a wave of his wand, Harry lit the candles on the tree and smiled. "Thank you for agreeing to come with me." It hadn't been necessary, not with the freedoms that the bond now allowed them. Severus could have stayed here or gone home to enjoy Christmas in solitude, at least for a couple of hours, until the bond protested again, but instead he chose to accompany Harry, despite his concerns.

"It meant a lot to you."

Harry's heart beat hard in his chest, as if it wanted to jump right out and land in Severus's hands. Harry snorted at the picture in his head. Figuratively, he found, the image was true, as well. Only that Severus had his heart already. It was a scary realisation. It left him so vulnerable, so open. But somehow, in these last two weeks, Severus had achieved something that nobody else had achieved before. With their fights and the accidents, with being basically chained to each other, Harry had gotten to see a new side of the man—one that he rather liked. One that cared for him and respected his wishes, one that would even brave the whole Weasley family for him. 

Harry took one of Severus's hands in his and looked at his long fingers. Didn't want to let go.

"You're a strange one, Harry Potter," Severus mumbled and pulled Harry close for a kiss. Harry put his arms around Severus's neck and pressed himself close. Severus stroked his back and, when he reached the spot where Harry's jumper had slid up, exposing his skin, Harry shuddered.

Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, Harry Apparated them into his bedroom, right onto the bed. 

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. "Please!"

Severus didn't question him further. He didn't inquire about Harry's change of mind, didn't comment that it might be painful, didn't mention that they had both had a lot to eat those past hours. Instead, he gently helped Harry out of his jumper and unbuttoned his own shirt. 

Harry touched Severus's pale chest and flicked one of his nipples curiously. Severus's answer was a sharp intake of breath and a kiss that became more needy, more passionate with every passing second. Severus ground their crotches together and Harry moaned as he felt Severus's hard cock through their trousers. He bucked up against it automatically, wanting and needing more. Severus pinned Harry's hands against the mattress and mumbled an incantation that left both of them naked.

"Merlin, yes!" Harry gasped, leaving no doubt that this was what he wanted. The way Severus moved his pelvis while they kissed almost made Harry lose his mind. Then Severus took one of his hands away and, one whispered incantation later, brought a finger coated with slick lube to Harry's arse. He twirled it around the hole first, until Harry practically begged for it, then pushed inside. The feeling wasn't new to Harry, but to have someone else do it to him brought a whole new dimension to the sensation. Quickly, Severus added another finger, moving both of them in and out and stretching Harry.

"Please, just—"

"Yes?"

"Fuck me. Please. Fuck me."

Severus carefully put a condom on, while Harry stared openly, legs spread and waiting. He hadn't known he could want and need someone else's cock inside of him so desperately. Severus used more lube, then kissed Harry again as he lined himself up and slowly, ever so slowly, pushed inside. The feeling was incredible. Painful, and strange, and wonderful at the same time. He could feel Severus's arousal through the bond, felt his dick throb inside him as Severus's waited for Harry to adjust. Harry took a deep breath and exhaled, then nodded. Severus caught his lips in a kiss before he started moving his hips again. Soon enough, Harry pushed against Severus, wanting more, begging him to go faster. Instead, Severus thrust deeper and a firework went off inside Harry's head.

"Fuck! Yes! Again!" 

Severus was only too happy to comply and Harry grabbed hold of his buttocks, moving his hips in rhythm with Severus. When orgasm rolled over Harry like a flood wave, it took Severus along with him over the edge. 

Afterwards, when Severus had rolled off of Harry, they both lay on the bed, catching their breath. Severus was the first to speak. "Happy Christmas," he said, almost dryly. 

Laughter, coming right from deep down, spilled over Harry's lips. He grinned at Severus and pressed a quick kiss to him shoulder. "Happy Christmas."

******

Three years later, Christmas still was very much a family affair. On Christmas morning, after having breakfast next to the Christmas tree in the living room, which was now filled with all of Severus's books, Harry and Severus would Apparate to the Burrow, where they would spend the rest of the day. In the evening, they would Apparate to Malfoy Manor to have a cosy evening with drinks in front of the fireplace with Draco and his wife, before they would finally go home and cuddle up in bed together.

The bond, they had found, was more than just a connection that would always lead them back to each other. It was, in fact, just a starting point—an ignition—for love.

**Author's Note:**

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